


To The Ground

by highwayKing



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Writing Exercise, takes place during 'Dreamscaperers'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 05:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8358931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highwayKing/pseuds/highwayKing
Summary: The crackling sound was offending to the ear. The heat scorching, standing closer might have even been dangerous. Yet here he was, unmoving from the place he loved. The same house that was now engulfed in flames that were breaking through the roof reaching higher than the ancient pines that surrounded it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little writing exercise I did when I had some free time. Just a small one shot inspired by a post.
> 
> Takes place during the end of ‘Dreamscaperers’ where instead of jamming a wreaking ball through the roof of the shack he burns it to the ground. The fic focuses on Stan’s point of view and on his thoughts.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The crackling sound was offending to the ear. The heat scorching, standing closer might have even been dangerous. Yet here he was, unmoving from the place he loved. The same house that was now engulfed in flames that were breaking through the roof reaching higher than the ancient pines that surrounded it.

Smoke was pouring out the windows, between the cracks on the wall and where the flames eat through.

It got into his eyes. That was his excuse for the tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes and almost fell. He didn't let them. That would be the ultimate defeat. And he couldn't afford to cry before the boy, a mere child, that did this to him, to them.

He glanced over at Gideon slightly so no one would notice. With the deed in his grabby, fat hand he chuckled to himself as the flames from the burning shack illuminated his face.

That child was terrifying. When no one was around to see his dark side he could be crueler then many adults Stan had known in his long crime filled life. And that was saying something.

He wondered what he would do if the folks from town saw him like this now. Their adorable child psychic being a maniac little creep, surely their world would come crashing down. Or would Gideon find a way to turn this against Stan as well? Would he be so cunning to say that Stan set fire to his own home so that him, Gideon, the new rightful over of the Mystery Shack, that he obtained through legal means, wouldn't be able to obtain it? At this point he would only expect it from him.

Whatever he would say they would eat it up. Never mind that an old man is homeless now. Never mind that he had so many plans and dreams for this place. Never mind that he lived here longer then the kid was even alive. And never mind that he had so much to do, a business to run, a portal to restart, a brother to save.

Those where irrelevant, because when it came down to it Gideon would always win over Stan. Like everyone else did.

If he could he would forget that this moment was real. He would rather pretend this is all a dream, a horrible nightmare and he would be waking up shortly.

This wouldn't be the first time that happened. Now and again he would be tormented with images of past failures and fears that's list has been growing for years and would rear up their ugly mugs when he was weak in the mind, when he was in those dark places that would frighten the Average Joe that's running around in this backwaters town to death.

"There is no rest for the wicked" said once a song on the radio. He laughed it off then, but now it’s frightening how much it suits him. As if it was written for a bastard like him.

Standing this close to the burning wreck that was his home only a moment ago and the flames dance before his very eyes made everything far too real.

If this was a dream he begged to be woken up.

There is no rest for people like him.

Even if he wasn't that wicked to begin with. He still felt bad, sometimes, at least.

While he mourned his home he was also worried like he was never before.

How was he going to continue to work on the portal? He knew the answer to that. All he had to do was to steal the deed back and he could continue on even if he had to rebuild the entire shack. Because as much as it hurt to see so many years of work go up in flames the shack was just that: a thing, a house, a wooden construction that could be remade into its previous incarnation. Even if it could never reach up to its predecessor it would still be there to welcome his brother back once he reactivated that cursed portal.

But if the shack was gone all of his secrets would lay there exposed. They could find the entrance and the elevator and then the portal for sure. Stan couldn't possibly explain all of his life decisions now, could he?

But that's how it’s going to be so he better come up with something and fast. He couldn't be stumbling for words when he needed to defend himself.

But who would believe him? He is hated by virtually everyone on this wide planet.

Who would believe him even if he told the truth or lied through the teeth? It didn't matter anymore.

Nobody dared to stand near him. He didn't want them to. But some primal side of him, that childish little part that he thought he had smoldered years ago craved some reassurance, a little pat on the back or an offer for a shoulder to cry on. He would refuse it of course but it would be nice, just once.

It wouldn’t make him feel so alone.

Two tiny hands quietly slipped into his old wrinkly ones, gently intertwined with his fingers, grabbing as much as they could.

He looked down and two little faces looked up at him in concern.

"We are so sorry, Grunkle Stan," Mabel said. Stan has never heard the sweet little girl be so quiet, it wasn't like her at all.

"It’s alright sweety; it’s none of your gremlins’ fault. There was nothing you could do about it," he said trying to be reassuring, something he never done in a long time. He quietly wished that this tragedy would have happened when they were back home and wouldn't have to worry about an old man. It wasn't fair towards them.

Dipper bowed his head and pulled his hat over his eyes. The gesture was so reminding to one of shame. Stan couldn't imagine why on earth the kid would be the one being ashamed, he should be bowing down for letting it get this bad. But who would have thought it would end in this. Gideon was a jerk, but he never expected him to go this far, no one did.

Mabel glanced at her brother and Stan could see in her face some form of understanding and compassion. He couldn't comprehend why, but they give of the appearance that they have something to do with it. But he felt too tired and much too old to question it right now. Also he stood by what he said; as far as he is concerned they aren't the slightest bit responsible for this mess.

A hand landed on his shoulder, tentative but so familiar.

Stan didn't have to turn to see that it was Soos who was offering his gentle reassurance. He tightened his hold on the children's hands just a bit, but enough to be noticeable by both of them.

Stan felt like crying more than ever.

The sirens of the firefighters drew nearer.


End file.
